Changing a headlight

It shouldn't require a trip to the dealership, nor a special order for a special part.

It shouldn't mean taking off your front tire so you can access it through the wheelwell. It should also not cause you to bend back said wheelwell liner and cut your hand on the hard-formed plastic. Also, let's avoid having to break the little plastic anchor screws that hold the liner once the replacement light is in while we're at it. 

But my car did. All of those things. 

It's humbling to think about all of the things in life that we expect to be so easy and are so incredibly not. That's why it's such a treat when life's perceived challenges become easily conquered. 

Guess the lesson here is just to take it steady as she goes. 

Then hope there's some great conclave of auto headlight manufacturers who declare that going forward all headlights will hereby be installed in the exact same way; easily.

Splinters

My little boy had a splinter today. A first. Just makes me remember what a pain in the ass splinters are. Get one and it usually means home surgery in the bathroom with tweezers, rubbing alcohol and a little match flame sterilization trick.  

But this little splinter also made me realize that this will be the first of his many splinters. And falls. And scrapes. And hopefully not too much worse.

So as he goes out to tackle the world it's a reminder of how there is always pain along the way. But try your best to avoid the splinters, I'll say. Those are the kind of boo boos that can stay with you and can fester if you don't take care of them. 

Sure, so most splinters will work themselves out. Yes, it takes a little time but it's possible. But heading to the bathroom with the tweezers definitely does the trick too. 

Strike the match. 

Appreciated

Saying thank you seems like such a foreign concept in a world where so any people feel entitled. When we truly appreciate the efforts or words of a fellow human being we become more connected and more human. 

Now, pass the gravy. 

Raking

The noise alone stands apart as the bristly plastic arms scratch away at the hardening soil. The leaves, caught and ripped away, reveal the clean-looking grass. It can breathe again. 

In many ways raking is therapy. Taking the fallen, dead past and brushing it aside. It's clearing the table for the next guests. And it has to happen for the cycle to repeat. 

I have often wondered why people enjoy raking leaves, having not raked in some time. Upon observation, it seems tedious, even mundane. But just 15 minutes in, I suddenly wanted a bigger yard to work as the satisfaction of such a simple act grew with each stroke. 

And when I was finished and my small plot on Earth was clear, I looked up at the tree branches above. There were only a few leaves left and they were waving to me. 

Just letting me know more leaves would fall, more work would come and change never stops. 

Sadness of Loss

Michael Brown was a human being. He was killed by another. That is the bottom line. Regardless of how.

As a society, we must make sure that we remember that every human being deserves love and respect. 

If we lose our ability to value the dignity of every person, then we lose our humanity as well.

A sad night.

Write it then

What else is there to do but write? You call yourself a writer than you must prove it. I'd reckon this is true of any profession. Doctors practice. Lawyers debate. It'd time to pick up the computer and get this stuff out onto screen.

It resonates. It connects. It's what brings us all together at the end of the day. Some people have a gift at conveying what they mean with these little characters.

But it does take doing. It takes action. It takes sacrifice, commitment and strong belief.

It takes writing, friend.